


No More Nightmares

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [37]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medication, Nightmares, Post-Gadreel, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 14:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3939454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sam kicks Gadreel out, he has nightmares, and sleep becomes harder. Cas is determined to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No More Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone--  
> Here's another old fic being moved from Tumblr.  
> Warnings: some time shortly after Sam kicks Gadreel out, Sam mentions sleeping pills, nightmares, hurt/comfort.  
> Enjoy!

            Sam starts taking pills to help him sleep.

            He’s exhausted all the time, because he wakes up every night, looking at his hands as if expecting to see blood there, looking around as if expecting to see Kevin’s body there. After he’s reassured himself it’s all over, that, to the best of his knowledge, he’s angel-free, he falls back onto his bed and closes his eyes, but sleep never returns.

            The pills aren’t that heavy. They’re certainly not meant to be used on a near nightly basis, but Sam figures he does plenty of non-recommended things and they haven’t killed him yet. And he knows the effects of sleep deprivation better than just about anyone, so, yes, he rather take a few too many pills.

            But they don’t help. Sure, they help him fall asleep, chemically pulling him under until he can’t resist, but they don’t stop the nightmares and they don’t stop him waking in a panic, checking his hands.

            He doubles up on the dosage. One more thing he’s not supposed to do, but he tries anyways.

            It doesn’t work. All it changes is it makes him wake up groggy, disoriented, even more frightened because he seems to be receding into his mind, not properly aware, like an angel is pushing him back.

            He goes off the pills altogether, useless as they are.

            So as a consequence he’s rarely sleeping at all, a combination of applied effort and genuine inability, nightmares plaguing him when he does manage to fall asleep, prompting him to re-double his efforts to sleep as little as possible.

            He begins to develop entirely noticeable bags beneath his eyes. He’s glad the hunt is delayed right now, what with his demon brother walking around, because he’s sure his slowed reflexes would get someone killed. He loses track of things that are going on and can’t seem to focus on even the simplest of tasks.

            He ends up falling asleep on the couch, too tired to keep awake, even against his own wishes. His body betrays him like it has so many times before.

            His hands, but not his hands, raising against his will, and he knows what will happen but can’t get the scream of fear and hatred and horror out, because it might be his mouth, his throat, his lungs, but he doesn’t control them. There’s a flash, and Sam cannot see what happened but he knows what his hands did.

            He wakes up with something quieter than a scream but louder than breathing, his own muted version of horror, but for once he’s not alone.

            Cas watches him from his perch on the few inches of couch Sam’s long body isn’t taking up.

            “You have nightmares,” he observes. Sam nods.

            Cas looks at his own hands sadly. “I wish I could take them from you. I wish I had enough grace left for that.”

            Sam knows the words are meant to be caring so he bites back the horror he feels at the thought of another angel altering his memories, his perception. “Leave them,” Sam says simply. “I can deal.”

            “You need sleep,” Cas says.

            Sam huffs. “I need to not fear what my hands will do if I close my eyes.”

            Cas ponders for a moment, then says, “go to bed, Sam, and maybe I have a solution.”

            Sam can’t imagine what Cas could have possibly thought of but, the truth is, he’s too tired to argue, so he hauls himself off the couch—a little unsteady on his feet, exhaustion will do that—and stumbles to his bedroom, Cas on his heels.

            Sam lies down and then feels the bed dip behind him, and Cas’ quiet voice, “is this okay?”

            Sam thinks for a moment, then nods, so Cas scoots closer until he’s practically spooning Sam.

            Sam blushes but doesn’t really have the energy to be embarrassed. Instead, he lets Cas pull him close and wrap his arms around Sam, taking Sam’s hands into his own, a light but sure grip.

            “Your hands won’t do anything you don’t wish, because I will hold them,” Cas says quietly. “And if you wake up, afraid once more, I promise I won’t have let go, so you can be assured, you have not done anything against your will. Is that okay?”

            Sam nods again and lets his eyes close like they so desperately want.

            He does wake up, but he also notices immediately that Cas still has the same grip on his hands, and he trusts Cas to know that Cas has not let go, so he’s able to go to sleep once more. And it works again, and again, and again, night after night, until Sam is calmer than he’s been in some time, and the nightmares become rarer.


End file.
